


I Promise

by honeywits



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 1700/1800s au, A lot of teasing like just pack that shit on, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blacksmith Keith (Voltron), Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, Class Differences, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Fluff, Lance being a flirt but also a little shit, Lance with brown eyes, Long-Haired Keith (Voltron), M/M, Mutual Pining, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Soft Keith/Lance (Voltron), a lot of kithes and promising, cry with me why don’t you, its happy, klance, old english, there’s a tag for that oh neat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25584733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeywits/pseuds/honeywits
Summary: “So will you?”Keith blinks. “Will I what?”Lance chuckles, holding up one of the wheat rings and taking Keith’s hand. “Marry me?”Keith’s gaze flickers between Lance and their hands, watching as one wheat band is slipped onto his third finger, as is the other onto Lance’s. His lips pull into a pout, pulling his hand back to cross his arms with.“You’re not just asking that for fun, are you?”Lance blinks, processing the question. “For fun?”“Yeah, for fun,” Keith huffs, looking away, “games, not for real…”Lance snaps into gear, shaking his head right away. “Oh! no, it’s not— I’m not,” a hand flings up to cover his heart, “I’m honest, Keith.”Keith’s eyes scoop to Lance again, never having much strength to take them off of him anyway. But he’s skeptical, looking him up and down with narrowed eyes. “Promise?”Lance cracks into another one of his gentler smiles. The ones that have wedged their way into Keith’s heart from the moment he met him.“I promise.”
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 73
Collections: Soft _sensational _klance





	I Promise

**Author's Note:**

> I have no other warning than to buckle up and get ready for some good 'ol tooth-rotting fluff with some ugly crying angst folks. I also listened to Zabawa's "Butterfly's Repose" while writing almost every word of this. And when I wasn't I was crying lmao. But yeah I highly recommend giving it a listen if you like. Otherwise, enjoy!
> 
> P.s., I also suggest only reading this if you're sure you're mentally prepared to. People get triggered by different levels of angst even if there's fluff involved, so I wanted to add that warning just in case.
> 
> P.p.s., please don't judge the butchered old English, I've only watched P&P and also Poldark like once just let me l i v e

**[7]**

“Hey, Keef,”

“Hm?”

“We’re friend’s, right?”

“Um.. Yes? I think..? Why?”

“Oh,” Lance smiles, one tooth in the front missing from his silly grin. “‘Cause I like you.”

Keith blinks for a moment, smiling back gentler. “I like you, too.”

Lance’s face blooms with life, grabbing Keith’s hands and pulling him closer with a giggle. Keith is a little stunned by the pull at first, looking to his feet but back up to his friend.

“We should stick together. D’you think we’ll get a big house? A pet?”

Keith’s face scrunches, thinking, “um.. maybe?” He looks to their tiny hands, his bandaged ones, Lance’s darker ones. “Don’t you have to be bigger to do that?”

Lance’s face falls to match Keith’s thinking one, “oh..” his lips pull to the side, but after a second he gasps and flails their joined hands up. “Our parents do that, don’t they?”

Keith blinks again, tilting his head with a confused bunch to his big brows. “I think so?”

Lance nods, “yeah! So all we have to do is be married, right?”

Keith’s eyes grow, interest filling them. “Can boys do that?”

Lance starts to swing their arms, the sun making their shadows dance on the gravel street below them as they begin walking. “Hmm. I dunno..”

He leads them down the path that takes them to Keith’s home, bumping into Keith here and there with their normal mini quarrels on the way.

With Keith’s home being in sight up the road, Lance looks over at Keith, stopping them.

Keith looks back at him with a quizzical face. “What’s wrong?”

But Lance just smiles, squeezing his hand. “When we’re bigger, will you marry me?”

Keith’s cheeks start to burn, glancing away to his home and back to Lance. Then he’s smiling back, two dimples spreading his pink cheeks. “Okay.”

“Promise?”

Keith’s eyes move to where Lance’s pinky is held between them, hooking his own around it with a chuckle.

“Promise.”

**[11]**

“Wait wait wait— you _what?_ ”

“I stole Shiro’s horse,” Keith snorts, turning his face to show a large bandage spread to his jaw, covering the great of his cheek. “And it kicked me.”

“Judas,” Lance gasps, cupping that side of Keith’s face to get a better look. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head, “You get into a ‘lotta trouble— what’re we _possibly_ gonna do with you?”

He reaches up to mess with Keith’s bangs, which turns into him taking all of Keith’s hair out of the small tie it was in, making Keith squirm away with a sigh.

“The hair, again? Really?”

“What?” Lance beams, claiming Keith’s hand. “ _You_ let it grow out, you’re basically askin’ for it, y’know.” He giggles, starting to lead both along into their secret field while humming a little tune.

At the top of the small hill, they both plop down aside each other, plucking the wheat and either tying it or pelting it at one another with soft laughs shared.

Then, breaking the comforting sound of wind brushing over the field, “can I braid it?”

Keith looks down from the apple tree he’s been zoning on in the far distance with a distracted hum, “hm?”

“Your hair,” Lance clarifies, dropping the wheat he has to scooch behind Keith. “Can I try braidin’ it?”

Keith feels his shoulders stiffen as Lance is already parting his hair into sections, staying silent for the most part and breaking apart more wheat at his ankles. “You know how to braid..?”

“Mhm..” a distracted hum falls from Lance’s lips with a nod, even if Keith can’t see it. Watches the raven locks slowly slip through his fingers as he crosses the sections over, and over, and over… “Veronica taught me to. I can only do three, though…”

Lance holds the bottom of the braid he made while ripping off a stray thread from the bottom of his shirt, tying it around Keith’s hair to hold the braid together.

He huffs when done, plopping onto his back with a smile to show to the blue sky. “You’ve got some pretty hair, Kogane.”

Keith scoffs lightly, “do you even know how to _spell_ Kogane?”

It’s all fun in games, and he expects Lance to shoot back with something equally silly, as he always does.

But he doesn’t.

Instead he says, “no, I don’t.”

The life to Keith’s face falters, turning in his seat to face Lance. “You don’t?”

“Nope.” Lance shakes his head, smile still careless and easy.

Keith looks at him, frankly baffled as Lance just sits up with a grunt, reaching for two closest strands of wheat to pluck and trim to smaller stems.

“I’d like to, though,” Lance loops the two stems around his fingers, making a knot in the middle of both in two separate bands. “..If I’m going to marry you.”

Keith didn’t realize he was staring at the two creations Lance was making until he’s looking back up to his friend’s softly grinning face, both his cheeks warmer than the top of his head from the sun beating down above.

“So will you?”

Keith blinks. “Will I what?”

Lance chuckles, holding up one of the wheat rings and taking Keith’s hand. “Marry me?”

Keith’s gaze flickers between Lance and their hands, watching as one wheat band is slipped onto his third finger, as is the other onto Lance’s. His lips pull into a pout, pulling his hand back to cross his arms with.

“You’re not just asking that for fun, are you?”

Lance blinks, processing the question. “For fun?”

“Yeah, for fun,” Keith huffs, looking away, “games, not for real…”

Lance snaps into gear, shaking his head right away. “Oh! no, it’s not— _I’m_ not,” a hand flings up to cover his heart, “I’m honest, Keith.”

Keith’s eyes scoop to Lance again, never having much strength to take them off of him anyway. But he’s skeptical, looking him up and down with narrowed eyes. “Promise?”

Lance cracks into another one of his gentler smiles. The ones that have wedged their way into Keith’s heart from the moment he met him, the ones that usually go with a…

“I promise.”

To seal the promise, Lance leans in to press a kiss to Keith’s cheek, right over the age-tainted bandage.

**[15]**

“And… now!”

“Lance.”

“Aaaaand…. _Now!_ ”

“ _Lance_.”

“ _Shh!_ You’re gonna mess me up!”

Keith shakes his head, rolling his eyes. He presses his head farther back into the bark of the overgrown apple tree they’re lounging against, scribbling away with his feather over his homemade journal.

“You can’t just _predict_ when an apple’s going to fall.”

And, to both of their surprises, a green apple falls between their touching laps.

They both look down at it, and Lance’s face grows cartoon-like, picking it up and shoving it in Keith’s face.

“Ha! Take _that_ , mullet!”

Keith shoots Lance a glare, snatching the apple out of his hand and taking a big bite out of it. Doesn’t care that it makes Lance’s mouth go agape with betrayal, either.

“Wh—Hey!”

“What?” Keith mumbles between his chews, tossing the apple onto his tan bag. “You can do your.. ‘magic’ or whatever again later, get your book.”

Now _Lance_ is the one with the narrowed eyes, completing the rest of his pout. “I didn’t bring it.”

Keith huffs, placing his feather in the spine between a fresh page and turning to Lance. “Okay. Use mine, then.”

Lance’s head goes back in a groan, rolling it back forward to deadpan his friend. “Fine..” he grabs Keith’s book and readjusts against the bark. “What first?”

Keith looks out at the wilted wheat field in the distance, brows drawing together to think.

“..My name.”

Keith can’t see it, but Lance peeks over at Keith, almost like he’s waiting for him to spell it so he doesn’t get it wrong.

But he eventually nods, and the scratching against the paper starts again for a solid few minutes. This is where Keith cranes his neck over his shoulder to see Lance’s progress.

_‘Ke et h K og ae en’_

Keith smiles; that’s the first time he’s written his name.

But…

“That’s not how you spell it.”

Lance stops the feather, unable to finish the mediocre ‘n’. “It’s not?” He blinks, tilting his head with discombobulation.

Which only slips into frustration by the sounds of the loud sigh that he huffs, pushing Keith’s journal to the ground so he can slump onto his side.

“Was I even close? _Judas_ , I can’t do this..”

Keith picks up his journal, slipping it into his bag with a snicker as Lance sulks.

“You were a little close.”

“ _No I wasn’t_ , don’t lie to me,” Lance whines, nudging Keith with his shoe.

“...Okay, so you weren’t close at all, _but_ —“

Lance shoots up, pointing at Keith, “see! I’m no good at this— I’m not even supposed to know how to do it, anyway..”

Keith parts his lips, ends up closing them soon after. He squeezes the side of his black trousers, looking Lance over.

“..Don’t say that. You can learn it, it just takes time to.”

Lance scoffs.

Keith nudges his side with his elbow, “if you can braid my hair, you can read and write.”

Lance doesn’t answer, looking away to fix his shirt that’s practically falling off his shoulder, frown still apparent. But Keith thankfully made the pinch in his brows soften.

Just a little.

A small bout of silence ends up falling over them, and Keith allows it.

Until he doesn’t, reaching into his bag for his knife.

Lance’s gaze returns quick, eyes widening to queue a question for the knife. “What’s that for?”

Keith shifts the opposite direction of Lance to make about a foot of room between them, twisting his torso to face the bark of the tree.

He gives Lance a smile. “You’ll see.”

Lance shifts to watch with pure addlement, but still half curious as Keith etches the blade decently into the uneven grooves of the tree. He finds himself paying more attention to the way Keith’s tongue peeks out of the corner of his lip, though, probably because he’s focused.

So Lance grins to himself, caught off guard when Keith is suddenly looking back at him and handing the knife to him saying,

“Now, yours.”

Lance blinks, looking to where Keith had been carving into the bark to see a choppy ‘Keith Kogane’ now engraved into this random tree.

Oh. So _that’s_ how you spell it…

He takes the knife slowly, pursing his lips.

He gives Keith an uncertain glance, and Keith raises his brows.

“You know it. And you can do it, Lance. It’s just your name, nothing to be afraid of.” He smiles gently, just how Lance likes him smiling.

And that smile makes Lance sigh with a reluctant nod, turning towards the bark as Keith did to hesitantly start notching the top of the ‘L’ below Keith’s first name.

Keith doesn’t hover too much so Lance doesn’t get self conscious, only stealing a few peeks to see how Lance is doing and to make sure he doesn’t impale himself with his knife or something.

He waits until he hears the very last scratch being finished, Lance’s pretty brown eyes sparkling at him.

“How is it?” He asks Keith, gaze flickering from his sloppily etched but still half legible ‘Lance McClain’ and to Keith over and over for validation.

Keith looks it over, the fondness that’s been propping up his smile only growing as he tilts his head with a funny expression.

“Ehh.. it’s a little…”

Lance groans, rolls his eyes before Keith can finish. “ _Keeeiith_ , c’mon. Please?”

Keith sighs, pushing his sleeves up more with a small nod. “It’s good.”

Lance’s face lights up, jumping to his knees. “It is?”

The knife is dropped, and Keith promptly throws it back into his bag with a simple hum.

“Mhm.”

“Wait—“ Lance searches Keith’s face after a second, eyes narrowing. “You’re being honest, right?”

“Yes,” Keith chuckles, nodding again, a little more assuring as he keeps looking at Lance. “..It looks lovely.”

Lance crosses his arms with a cute persistence that Keith has grown to admire. Possibly a little… too much.

“..Do you promise it?” He asks.

Keith can’t help but wonder what else he could possibly promise this boy that’d have any possibility of being a lie, his eyes having a mind of their own as they gawk at Lance’s lips. Just… for a second.

A second that gives him enough courage to lean forward and press his lips to the darker, softer ones.

“I promise it,” he whispers like they’re in a room of those that’d judge him for this silly promise.

It was just a small peck, but Keith stays close to see the surprise on Lance’s face.

Then the surprise turns into a toothy smile, pulling Keith back in for a firmer kiss with a giggle.

Keith’s eyes blow out in a small moment of stagger, not ready for Lance to pounce his whole weight on him when the kiss comes so he wavers back, almost tripping onto his bum.

He doesn’t, thankfully getting his footing and letting himself melt into the new feeling of his lips being introduced to Lance’s.

The new feeling that isn’t so new now that he’s being completely engulfed by it, his mind drowned in this feeling that he hopes Lance is feeling, too.

But he starts to doubt it when Lance pulls away, their lips making a tiny ‘pop’ when separated.

When all he can look into are those mocha eyes that shine just right when the sun hits them, when Lance is searching his face again. But this time, he’s smiling.

“You never answered me, y’know...”

To this, Keith’s brows knit subtly, trying to think what he left unanswered from today.

Lance doesn’t need his answer to know to explain it for him, rubbing the pad of his thumb down the permanent scar of Keith’s cheek.

He looks Keith square in the eye. “I won’t ask for anything else other than to marry you, Keith.”

Keith’s heart jumps to… a place it’s not supposed to be when he hears that. Makes his tongue feel heavy, wanting to accuse Lance of playing like always—

—but he sounds serious.

Really.. really serious.

Lance takes Keith’s silence as an opportunity to cup both of his hands, bringing them up to his lips and kissing the little cuts and scars, calluses that have started to peel on his palms, the creases of his fingers.

Keith pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, watching.

And doesn’t put much effort into it, but he squirms his hands out of Lance’s grasp and smiles hopeless to the ground. “You know we can’t, Lance.”

Lance’s heart drops to… a place no one wants their heart to when talking to the person they admire and look up to most. Makes his eyes lose the life in them, grabbing Keith’s hands back to get Keith’s attention again.

“Why not?”

Keith purses his lips, face feeling hot and he’s just so weak to those brown eyes that it hurts in places it’s not supposed to.

It’s really, _really_ not supposed to.

“Because we—...“ his next words refuse to come out, though, nervous and stuffed down deep in his throat.

Lance shifts his fingers so that his and Keith’s intertwine, not breaking eye contact even though he can tell Keith is. “Because we what?”

Keith looks to their hands, then back to Lance with a slow, painful huff.

“..Because _we_ ,” he starts, wriggling his fingers free from Lance’s once again and dropping them to his lap. Pulls away from Lance’s face so they aren’t as close as they were, and with a massive rock pulling down his chest, “..aren’t supposed to.”

Then the rock fills Lance’s chest, too, brows low to make a frown.

But it’s not permanent. He manages a small smile, reaching up to fix a stray chunk of Keith’s hair behind his ear. “Guess I’ll just have to wait until we are.”

Keith knows his cheeks must be blazing at this point. And he lets them, doesn’t bother to hide them because Lance can see through him to know it’s there, and to know how he feels.

He doesn’t know how the hell he does it, but he doesn’t feel the need to ask for a promise on it.

Because Keith leans in again, and that is the promise.

Keith kisses him again.

**[18]**

Lance kisses him again.

And again.

...and again…

... _again_ …

“ _Lance_!” Keith swats him away, looking over his shoulder and around them to make sure no one saw and almost bumping into a street person doing so.

“Yes?”

Keith deadpans at the sight of Lance’s falsely innocent smirk, obviously looking Keith up and down.

He huffs, shoving Lance away. “You shouldn’t be standing that close, you know…”

Lance snickers, fixing the collar of his brown washed shirt while strolling down the market with little to no cares. “Forgive me, sweetheart.”

Keith all but scuffs his boots by how fast he stops in his tracks at the sound of that name that’s not his.

It’s—it’s _not_ his.

He shoots Lance a warning look, “don’t call me that.”

“I won’t,” Lance starts, Keith knowing that bargaining tone all too well to know where he’s going even when he (thankfully) lowers his voice.

“..If you marry me.”

Keith stops himself from rolling his eyes, “no.” and continues walking forward, slowing down at a clothing stand with Lance lagged behind.

Lance audibly sighs, catching up to Keith and pushing through the expensive materials to be behind Keith again. Waits for him to come to a complete stop while looking at coats to peek over his shoulder, talking low into Keith’s ear as he’s taking a coat off of a table to look at.

“Marry me.”

Keith actually rolls his eyes this time, a tired smile peeking up. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” Keith quips, a snippy conversation ender as he drops the coat he was checking.

Lance groans, and Keith chuckles.

It’s like this for a while.

“Marry me.”

“No.”

“Keith?”

“Hm?”

“Will you marry me?”

“No, I will not.”

“ _Keeeeiitthh_ …”

“No.”

It’s like this for their whole free day of wandering the town.

Lance trying different tones and silly accents to coax Keith into the answer he’s searching for, and Lance risking it all by sneaking chaste kisses everywhere and anywhere on Keith’s body that he can reach at that time.

He hums a title-less tune to himself as they reach an unpopular, less crowded blacksmith at the end of the trail. Keith bends over the display table to observe the knives, in which Lance hurries around to the opposing side of the table to snatch Keith’s attention. _Again_.

With a gleaming smile, he scoops down to meet Keith’s gaze and take it off of the knife he had it on.

“..Marry me?”

Keith groans, scratching the back of his neck and putting down the slightly rusted blade. “How long are you wishing to keep this up, McClain?”

Lance’s head pops up to do a quick scan at their surroundings, then brings a hand up to hook a finger under Keith’s chin, tilting it up, close.

“Until your answer changes…” he smiles, mumbling. His eyes dip down to Keith’s porcelain lips, lingering enough and looking back into those pretty, dark violet eyes. “...Until I hear a yes.”

And Keith allows a moment for the world to fall into white noise, allows himself to soak up this moment with desperate eyes looking right back at Lance’s.

He allows Lance to lean in for what he knows well to be a kiss, just like they’re back in their secret spot out in the quiet, judgeless field again.

...But they’re not.

So a nearby hat on display is shoved into Lance’s face by Keith’s hand, blocking his lips.

“Hey—!” Lance whines, recoiling and throwing the hat off to see Keith chuckling with a hand hiding his smile.

He puffs, crossing his arms. “There’s not even anyone to see us!”

Keith readjusts his collar, turning on his heel with a careless hum. “We’re still public.” and heads for the trail home— Lance’s home.

The walk there is short and sweet, if sweet is Lance’s babbling about Keith being too uptight and stern, and to let loose more.

If sweet is Lance stealing more quick kisses when Keith has his guard down, receiving weak slaps for it, which are _always_ sweet to him.

They’re interrupted by a maiden hiking up her dress and running toward them, a letter in hand.

“Lance!” She yells, panting as she abruptly stops in her tracks when she meets them.

Both boys stop and steal a confused glance, Lance stepping forward.

“Yes?”

“Mistress Honerva requested it be given to you at once.”

Lance takes the letter in her hand, Keith looking it over with just as much curiosity.

Before Lance gets to question the maid of its message, she’s off running down the path they just came from.

Keith tilts his head, looking up to Lance’s… _different_ face in hopes of figuring out what the letter holds by doing so. “Is it urgent..?”

Lance doesn’t look back up to Keith, pursing his lips but forcing a small smile. “No,” he shakes his head, almost too quick, shoving the letter in his messily stitched back pocket. “It’s not anything to worry about.”

Keith nods, but the concern has yet to leave as they continue walking.

And walking, walking.

Until he speaks up softly when they are about a mile away from Lance’s house of keep. “..Do you promise?”

Lance turns to Keith, unusually quiet the whole walk so the question catches him off guard. But he still nods after a second, growing close enough to bend and kiss above the soft material of Keith’s collar, lips gentle on his neck.

“I do promise.”

**[19]**

“What are you doing?”

Lance has his back to Keith, peeking over his shoulder and elbowing Keith away.

“Ah ah ah— don’t look.”

Keith rolls his eyes, “fine, fine..” relaxing onto his back and shoving his bare feet into the damp sand below them some more.

Lance is making some small clicking sounds on his side, and when Keith _assumes_ he’s done doing whatever he was, he lays on his back properly again only after hearing Lance shove whatever he had into his pocket.

Keith knows Lance is grinning like a fool right now without having to look, too. But does he look over anyway?

Yes. Yes he does.

And looking becomes staring, an unconcealed admiration in the way his eyes glaze over Lance’s smiling, freckled face.

He doesn’t realize that Lance caught him in the act until Lance’s face is way closer than it was before to his own, that confident smile doing something… weird to his chest.

Lance’s eyes are seducing Keith’s lips before Keith has a chance to stop them. His voice as sweet as melted sugar as he asks, “what?”

Keith looks up at Lance through his bangs, a soft blush dusting the apple of his cheeks. And he’s smiling back, only gentler.

“..Nothing,” he leans in slow as if he’s initiating a kiss, waits for Lance to take the bait and go to meet him in the middle.

Only to smear some soaking wet seaweed across Lance’s cheek.

“You’ve just got a little something there.”

“ _EWW Oh my god—_ “ Lance _immediately_ jumps back the second he feels the cold, damp feeling of the sandy seagrass. Squirms to sit up and slap it off, rubbing any excess sand off with disgusted grunts. “You are a despicable one, Kogane,” he shoots Keith a playful glare, a warning in the way he shuffles closer to swing a leg over, to hover over Keith.

“Am I?” Keith shoots back, the back of his hair pressing into the sand. But he doesn’t care as he looks up to Lance with mischief in his little grin.

Lance raises his brows, the challenge clearly accepted.

“Yes,” he says matter-of-factly, leaning down closer for what Keith knows is a kiss. But Lance doesn’t kiss him, curls his fingers into Keith’s side with intentions of tickles instead. “And one that condones or performs despicable behavior _must_ be rightly punished.”

Keith barely hears what or who is punished, too busy trying to catch his breath and trying to move away from Lance from the outburst of giggles that leave him.

“La— _hah_.. Lance! Sto—“

But Lance is relentless to drag more adorable snorts and chuckles out, too, moving to all the soft spots that he’s grown familiar with knowing the sensitivity of by heart and tickling right into them regardless of how breathless his friend is under him.

But after a few seconds, he doesn’t expect the tables to be turned, and for Keith to quickly shoot his arms up to press his fingers into _his_ sensitive spots, making him drawback with an _oof_ onto the sand.

“WAIT! Nonono, that’s not fai—!” He’s cut off, and now the giggles are coming from him, uncontrolled and free.

And now that Keith has caught up to his breath, he has the perfect chance to straddle Lance’s hips and force more laughs out of him, too.

Has the perfect chance to settle and be quiet to listen to Lance laugh, eventually slowing his movements to a stop with a fond look taking over his face as Lance just keeps giggling, eyes squinted.

...Has the perfect chance to watch Lance laugh like the world stopped just for his heart to be lucky enough to hear it, to know that he caused it.

Lance’s laughs eventually die off into breathy chuckles, looking up to Keith with slow huffs; his chest rises and falls off of the sand.

For the first time, Keith has no shame in not looking away, eyes trained on Lance’s brown, gentle eyes.

So he speaks first, barely above a whisper compared to the clash of waves behind them.

“..Lance?”

Lance brings his hands up to Keith’s hips, holding them there so they don’t run away with a sweet hum. “Hm?”

a dimple forms between Keith’s brows as he bites on his lower lip, hands carefully pressing into the bottom portion of Lance’s shirt.

He knows he’s stalling if the answer won’t come out.

He knows his heart pounding in his chest won’t suffice as that answer, and he knows that if he lets it go on any longer that that answer will remain a coward in his throat.

So he clears it, looking Lance firm in the eyes.

“I think I must…” he feels that lump closing his throat again, but he tears it open to keep talking, to hush his heart, to not think about where Lance’s hands are, to.. to… “I.. I think that I—“

Lance’s expression snaps out of their serious trance when horse tracks are heard coming their way from a distance. Maybe a mile or two away, less the longer they sit here staring at each other.

So they’re both pushing away from one another with haste, pulling onto their feet and brushing the sand off with both eyes looking for the horse to gage when it will pass.

The horse is in view, and Keith makes out a driver and a smaller carriage at the back, not paying any mind to what or who is inside of it, as him and Lance always do. Just keeps waiting for it to pass.

And waits.

And waits.

But it doesn’t pass.

It brakes at the road away from the shore they’re close to, the rider stepping down off of the holder.

Keith’s brows furrow, looking at Lance with too many emotions that one simple ‘confusion’ could carry properly.

“...Lance? Did you send for someone to..?”

His voice trails off when Lance finally faces him again, that different expression he’s never seen on Lance returning uninvitedly.

It makes Keith’s chest wrench before he even opens his mouth.

“I.. have to leave, Keith.”

Keith’s shoulders fall, and so does his heart into his stomach so that words feel impossible to make come out of his mouth.

“Leave?” He steps closer, eyes searching Lance’s face again. “Leave to.. where?”

Lance looks away toward the sea, and Keith can’t help but be jealous of that sea for taking Lance’s attention right now.

“..Last year, I piqued the interest of a mistress of Honerva’s outside’a town. And I… I've been sold to her.”

Keith holds his breath, frozen.

Sold?

Lance has been _sold_ to someone?

Lance braves looking back at Keith, guilt in his eyes when he goes to grab for Keith’s hand.

Then there’s hurt in them when Keith pulls away, expression stern.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Lance looks Keith over, body feeling like tons of weights at once as he tries to explain himself. “I only wished not to upset you, like this…”

Keith’s arms cross themselves, hold onto himself tight in the hug he wants Lance to be giving him, but his chest and lungs burn with something betrayed that won’t let it.

And his eyes burn with something hot and wet.

“..Do you love her?”

Lance’s gaze fixes onto Keith with something complicated, but also something honest as he grabs Keith’s hand.

“No-” Lance says fast with an iron tone, fishing in his pocket for something. “No. My heart is for yours only, Keith.”

Keith finds it impossible to try to look away from Lance’s eyes as tears stain his pink, puffed cheeks. They only stray for barely a second to look down to where Lance is slipping a bracelet of seashells onto his wrist.

He looks up at Lance through dark, wet eyelashes with a knotted throat as he sniffles.

“...As is mine.”

The sea crashing at their left is no longer a threat to them, nor is the horse impatiently nickering a mile away on the road as they stand there and embrace their comfortable silence.

Lance tugs Keith closer, holding the sides of his face to easier press his lips to his forehead with a low sigh that comes from his chest, in strain. “I’ll return..”

And Keith doesn’t miss a beat, tilting his head up to see those brown eyes again.

Just one more time.

_Just one more time…_

“Promise it.” He whispers.

Lance wipes away one of Keith’s tears about to streak down his cheek with his thumb, nodding.

“I promise it,” He kisses the corner of Keith’s eye. “I promise it on my life.”

And Keith holds that promise close to his heart, just as he does the bracelet of shells as he watches the carriage go down the road with Lance in it, accepting that he will wait to finish what he wanted to say when Lance comes back.

And so he waits.

**[20]**

And waits.

**[21]**

And waits.

**[22]**

And waits...

**[25]**

...and waits by their wilted, sick fruit tree after midnight on a cold night.

His dark circles consume and hollow his eyes from the light from his lantern. The air making the fire dance, the bite of it making him rustle his jacket shut with a shiver, spinning the frail shell bracelet dropping off of his wrist.

Wishing he savored Lance’s kisses to warm him when he had the chance to.

A drop of water drips onto his lap, staining the small spot darker.

Why didn’t he?

Another drop falls, then another.

And two more fall from collecting at his chin.

_Why the hell didn’t he?_

**[26]**

“Keith?”

Keith pauses his slamming, lifting the red iron from the anvil to cool and to turn. “Yeah?”

Shiro wipes his forehead with his sweaty, stained sleeve, “could you check the front counter to see if I misplaced my flask?”

Keith stands straight up from his stool, also wiping his forehead, bangs damp and mussed across his forehead. He nods with a snicker, throwing his gloves off and onto his stool. Goes through the back entrance of their blacksmith shop to get to the front, searching around and under the front desk for the flask.

The main door swings open with a ding of a bell, two customers walking through.

His head pops up, ready to greet a quaint and tidy mistress in a pink, expensive hoop gown that enters beside a taller, also cleaned up male brunette.

A taller, cleaned up _Lance_ in an expensive dark blue suit with a woman on his arm, pointing to the different things on display in their store and making him look at them with her.

He's... different. But Keith knows that face.

That’s—

_It’s_ —

Keith notices him first, but when Lance’s brown eyes meet his, an electric current makes his mind forget all about Shiro’s flask, makes his heart skip one too many beats at once at a lightheaded level.

He knows he’s blushing, and he knows it deepens when Lance smiles at him.

Yep, he knows that smile anywhere...

...He _doesn’t_ know how to act when he overhears Lance pull the woman aside and tell her to go in the back to see her friend Shiro while he waits out here.

He _doesn’t_ know why time drags while she laughs and nods before following his instructions, going past Keith with a little greeting to their backroom, Shiro and her voices mumbling, laughing behind the now-closed door.

He _really doesn’t_ know how to react when Lance steps up to the desk so close that Keith can see the bags under his eyes. So close that he can see that Lance’s lips are a little cracked into the smile they’re spread into, so close that he can see that Lance’s hair has grown out a fair amount, so close that he can see the adorable freckles and the crinkles at his eyes that he hasn’t seen in—

“I told you I’d come back, didn't I?”

Keith feels his water lines start to fill with tears the second he hears Lance’s voice, lower and raspier with age.

Oh

_Oh_

The tears are falling down Keith’s face before he can stop them.

Lance’s brows fall, reaching for Keith’s face to hold in his palms that are still soft and as warm as they were seven years ago.

Seven years without this touch, without— _God_ —

Keith doesn’t know how long he sobs there with Lance watching him, whispering hushed coos.

“Oh, Keith...” he clicks his tongue sadly, wiping his tears with his gentle thumbs.

Exactly like he did seven years ago.

“I waited..” Keith managed to choke out, holding Lance’s wrists to pull him closer. “I _waited_ , Lance…”

Lance wipes Keith’s damp cheek again, “I know you did, dear,” brushing back a longer chunk of Keith’s hair from falling in his face. “I know…”

A few long, needed moments fill with only silence and the sounds of Shiro and Allura hitting it off in the back before Lance is pulling back a fraction to properly look over Keith’s face.

To see if he’s in good health, to see how many changes seven years did to him from up close.

A chuckle breathes out of Lance’s nose and makes his chest rumble, the corners of his eyes pricked with tears as he combs his fingers through Keith’s long locks, watching the dark strands detangle through his fingers. “You let your hair grow more...”

And Keith doesn’t look anywhere other than Lance, afraid that if he blinks Lance will leave, afraid that if he even peeks away for one second, that Lance will be gone again.

Afraid to see the back of Lance one more time.

“..Kiss me….” Keith mumbles, eyelids tired and numb from the tears they’ve been drained of for far too many nights.

He swallows, gaze flickering between Lance’s eyes.

Those big, brown, charming eyes that…

...that belong to someone else now.

Yet Keith still presses on, death grip growing on Lance’s wrists as he says, “kiss me like you used to..”

But he already knows the answer he’ll get immediately by the pained look on Lance’s face.

“Keith... you know I can’t—“

“ _Please?_ "

Keith lets go of Lance’s wrists only to grab his nearly straight collar to his coat, pulling him in close with more liquid heat threatening to pour down his chin again.

Quieter than the first, “..please… Please, Lance..”

Lance holds his breath as their noses bump from their new, close vicinity. He sighs that tight breath out, checking around them, checking the back door for absolutely no witnesses like Keith used to do.

Then, he inches his face closer, slow and hesitant.

And their lips touch, as they used to do.

Just a quick bump, a gentle brush of pale on mocha skin.

Just once.

Barely a taste reciprocated of the other’s to bask in.

Lance goes to reel back, opening his mouth to speak, “..I know not how long Allura will be. But I should—“

But he can’t with Keith pulling him right into a harder kiss, one with plenty of fervor that he’s been _starving_ for all this time.

Lance stiffens and doesn’t participate at first, but soon enough, he’s the last piece of the puzzle that completes the kiss.

Curls his fingers into the back of Keith’s hair, grabbing at the back of his sweaty shirt until Keith is practically leaning over the counter on his toes as they fall deep, deep into each other.

“L’nce..” Keith mumbles desperate into Lance’s mouth.

“‘M here,” Lance slurs right back, catching a quick breath before trying again so Keith can hear him proper. “I’m here, darling...”

And It would be easy for them to stay like this.

It would be so easy for them to know that they’re allowed to keep kissing for as long as the universe would let them if it means Lance could smell the musk of coal and smoke on Keith, and Keith could smell whatever fancy cologne is on Lance for as long as they wanted to.

It would be easy for their mouths to continue their messy, warm, passionate dance until their lips fell off.

Until all that they’re left with is to touch each other as desperately as Keith is clinging to Lance, and as desperately as Lance is holding onto Keith.

It would be _so_ easy...

But.

“Lance..”

“Yes..?” Lance hums, panting soft and placing random kissing across Keith’s face to make up for the tears staining them. Makes a path down his jaw, his ear…

“I— mm…” Keith lets his eyes close into the kisses, sniffling again to clear his stuffed nose, even if it only makes his voice more stuffy when he breathes out, “..I love—“

They both freeze at the same time when the clicking of heels and girly giggles comes closer to the back door.

They separate, Keith wiping his face, re-tying his apron and fixing his hair while Lance jumps a foot away from the counter, straightening his coat and fixing his collar with it.

Allura opens the door with a beaming grin, a glimpse of Shiro waving her a goodbye and getting one back before pausing in her tracks to Lance and Keith.

She blinks over at Keith first, giving a pleasant little curtsy to match her doll smile.

“Afternoon— forgive me for the lousy greeting. You’re Keith, then?”

Keith can’t help but look Allura over with envy polluting his vision, forcing a tight-lipped smile and a nod. “That’s me.”

“Ah,” Allura hums, stepping over to wrap her arm around Lance’s again. “Shiro has spoken so well about you in his.. letters…”

She fades off, looking up to Lance, who’s still looking at Keith.

Then she looks between both, curious. “..You two have known one another?”

Keith clenches his jaw, taking everything in his being, in his _soul_ not to blurt out just how ‘well’ he knows Lance.

It takes every bone in his body not to shout how she’s ruined how well they _knew_ each other.

How _she_ ruined the bracelet on his wrist, how _she_ made their apple tree with their signatures on it die, how _she_ made that horse and carriage take Lance away from him and how _she **broke** _him by _taking Lance away from him_ for _seven years_ by fucking _buying him_ and she doesn’t even _want him_ or _love him_ _like he does_ —

“Yes,“ Lance clears his throat, breaking Keith out of the obvious trance he was in, that was only staring daggers at Allura that she thankfully didn’t notice. “We spent our childhood together.”

Allura clicks her tongue, tilting her head with a charmed coo. “Aww, how the reunion is sure to warm the heart!”

Both boys nod, and both boys say nothing.

Keith is staring at his feet, knowing that if he didn’t stop looking at Allura then he’d definitely raise some suspicions that he doesn’t need to deal with right now— or ever.

But with those heels coming closer to their main desk, he’s forced to look up to Allura, eyes still very much puffed and strained from the sobbing.

She thankfully doesn’t seem to notice it as she lifts her hand, rustling up her sleeve enough to twist a ring off of her third finger.

One that matches Lance’s.

“Shiro said you were quite skilled with smaller pieces—“ she holds the ring out to place it in Keith’s hand, gesturing to the finger it came from. “It just will not stay on... I was wondering if you are able to adjust the size?”

Keith looks the ring over, runs it between his thumb and index. Swallowing his pride, he nods, “I can.”

Allura sighs relieved, giving Keith another giddy smile. “Thank you. For how much?”

Keith’s eyes stray behind his customer to Lance, having the nerve to purposely look the other direction from Keith.

He knows why he is, but…

“No charge. You’re a family friend, so..” He shakes his head, waving the other hand not with the silver band in it. Steals one last haste peek at Lance while clearing his throat, “It’ll take some time to be finished, though, Miss.”

Keith sees Lance’s face turn back to his, brows taunt, trying to figure out the scheme.

Allura’s face scrunches up in thought. She holds her chin with her lips in a line, sighing, “will it be much longer than a month’s wait? Our trip only lasts for such..”

He looks over her face, knowing that smiling would be everything inappropriate and more right now.

So he does it internally, no drop of guilt left to have for his selfishness.

“No worries,” Keith assures, showing the ring off in his palm. “It should be returned before this month is up, you have my word.”

Allura looks between the ring and Keith, giving an uncertain grunt before nodding, giving in.

“Alright, then..” after a second of giving her iron band a silent goodbye with her eyes, she turns on her heel to Lance, which snaps him out of looking at Keith, again.

She takes Lance’s hand, “Did you hear him, love?”

Keith can feel his grip on the ring tighten; love. Pff, _right_.

“Yes,” Lance gives Keith one last look of uncertainty, one last apology in his eyes before they’re on Allura’s, managing a tiny smile. “Yes I did. It was very humble of him.”

Allura nods with energy, tugging at Lance’s arm toward the door. “Shall we go, then? We wouldn’t want to miss Coran’s party.”

Allura gives Keith one last subtle curtsy as Lance nods with a hum, following beside her to leave.

Keith can feel his chest sink when he watches both get closer to the door, each step clawing at his heart like he has to say something.

He _has_ to say _something_.

“Wait!”

The couple stop in their tracks, but Lance is the first to turn and look at Keith.

The apology is back in his eyes as he silently hopes for another form of stalling.

The stalling that Keith comes up with is: “I, um…”

He knows Allura is looking at him now, too, but the only person who has his eyes is Lance right now.

He looks at him with a desperate rope around his neck, preventing anything to come out because he doesn’t _have_ anything to come out that is permitted with Allura here.

So he swallows and nibbles on his lip, sighing to himself. “..Have fun at the party.”

Allura nods and smiles, opening the door before them. “Thank you, Keith. Let Shiro know that I’ll try my best to visit him more often before the month is up.”

Keith nods, but his eyes are on Lance, like he’s hoping _he_ has something to stall.

Hoping he’ll hear him promise that he’ll come back again.

But he knows he couldn’t; knows he can’t.

So he lets them both walk out of his door.

He lets them pass by his shop in buggies day by day without waving to them.

He lets the thoughts of how easy it’d be to steal Lance away if he could since he’s here to break off into the other impossible ideas he has to keep Lance.

He lets that too-big ring sit in his apron.

**[Where it stayed for a month’s time.]**

Allura clears her throat, exiting from where she's been getting ready for bed in their hotel’s bathroom to their bedroom. Her hands are tucked behind her creamy white slip as she hums a delicate tune, asking so innocently, “Lance?”

Lance stands leaned over the extended vanity against the wall, shaving his face with a preoccupied, distracted hum. Almost like he’s obligated to say: “yes?”

Allura steps slow further into the room, a tiny sway in her step as she nears the bed.

"Do you think I should bring home the mice the old ford cheese, or the Caviocavallo? Platt and Chuchule would enjoy either, but Chulatt and Plachu get ridiculously picky with their treats sometimes..."

It takes a second for Lance to process the question, eventually chuckling a little with a roll of his eyes at his reflection, "Caviocavallo, absolutely. Chulatt prefers the lighter ones, doesn't he? Plachu can deal. He's always a grumpy fella anyways."

Allura giggles a little with an agreeing nod, fingers untangling some of the end of her hair. "So it is decided, Caviocavallo it is."

Once she finishes fiddling with her hair, she pauses, looking back over her shoulder.

"Lance?"

"Yes, Allura?"

“You do love me, don’t you?”

Lance's face falls short of the easy smile it had as he pauses for a short second, though this isn’t the first time she’s asked this exact question. Most month’s it’d go something like:

_‘Lance?’_   
_‘Hm?’_   
_‘Don’t you love me so much?’_   
_‘Yes, Allura.’_

Or,

_‘Darling?’_   
_‘Yes?’_   
_‘Could you coddle me? Today I am lonesome— love me?’_   
_‘..Alright, of course.’_

Or…

_‘Pumpkin?’_   
_‘What is it?’_   
_‘It’s been a day since you’ve last kissed me. Is everything alright? I still have your love, right?’_   
_‘Of course you do, Allura.’_

So Lance is used to the question being asked in any circumstance by now.

Only, this one is a little abruptly and not so conveniently timed as he blinks at his reflection. Hesitates with a gulp, “..yes..?”

Allura hums, “mm, you do..” as she takes a seat on the edge of their bed, a small crinkling sound coming from behind her that is something other than that of her flattening the front of her silk slip.

“So, you love my body?”

“Yes..” Lance continues through his usual script, cautiously scraping the foam off of his cheek.

Allura looks around the room, kicking her feet lazily without a drop of care in her tone. “And you _love_ my outfits?”

“Mhm.”

“And my makeup?”

“Mhm...”

Allura persists, “and my hair, all my mice…?”

“Mmhm…” Lance finishes with shaving his left cheek, shifting to start the top of the other.

“And Keith?”

“ _Yes_ , Allura, I’ve told you a _hundred_ times that I-...“ and Lance freezes when the name ‘Keith’ processes.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Oh no.

He spins around to Allura, face as white as the cream on his cheek until it grows hotter by the second. “Wait—“

“Ah,” Allura clicks her tongue, crossing one leg over the other and holding it there with intertwined hands, a smug smile. “I did have my suspicions before, and now I know that they are true.”

Lance feels his face flush more than it already has, looking to the floor and gripping his shaver harsh.

So she knows.

..Or does she?

Hell— what all _does_ she know? And for _how long?_

“I… whatever your suspicions are, I don’t have any part in them.” He finally sputters out, shoulders stiffening in lousy defense.

“Oh, but you do,” Allura stands, pulling a letter off the bed from where she had hid it behind her.

A letter—one of _many_ — that she’s been seen passed between maids and servants and kept quiet about until the one that came in this morning was placed in their mailbox before Lance woke up.

A letter that Allura had already opened and read, recognizing the ‘Keith’ it’s written by right away.

“Do you take me for fool, Lance? Not seeing how you looked at that man at the blacksmith’s?”

“..I don’t know who you’re speaking of.” He does.

Allura’s brows raise, amused, holding up the letter before Lance’s face. “Would this help remind you, then?”

But he already knew all too well who she meant all along, a burning creeping up his ears from the bad lie as his eyes skate over the white, opened envelope with his name addressed upon it under the maroon seal

Lance’s eyes go back to Allura’s, swallowing dry. It seems that it’s too dry for any words to come out, either, since he just stands there, confounded.

Allura drops the letter, watching it thread between her fingers. “Lance, you only shave when we will be passing Keith’s town,” a sigh, then she’s giving the letter to Lance.

“You’ve never touched me in bed once in all the seven years you’ve spent with me, you’ve never honestly been able to say that you love me once, and when I pull teeth to ask if you do, you hesitate like no other..."

Oh no.

 _Please_ don't say it..

"..You love him, don’t you? The blacksmith?”

Lance didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he’s forced to breathe again, eyes scattered to look somewhere, anywhere for the right answer that won’t get him in the trouble him and Keith were trying to escape all these years.

Well, before those seven years, that is...

His jaw clenches as he shakes his head, but words still fail him as he stutters, “..I-I don’t.. um…”

Allura smiles, shaking _her_ head. “But you do.”

Lance groans, putting the letter behind him on the vanity to read later as he grabs Allura’s shoulders, looking into her eyes grave. “You don’t understand, Allura. Even if I.. _did_ —“

“—Which you _do_.” Allura teases, snickers seeing Lance’s blush deepen on the one clean cheek she can see.

And Lance huffs, “ _no_ ,” and rolls his eyes tiredly. “I'm _strange_ , Allura. The people in my old hometown— you just don’t know how— how they would all—“

“They would do nothing under _my_ word.” she puts her palm up to Lance’s clean cheek, her touch firm and certain. “You are not strange, Lance,” smiling up at him with an assuring gleam in her eye. “You are in love.”

Lance’s lips purse, gaze flickering between his feet and Allura because he knows damn well that he is.

Very, _very_ much is.

This is just… not very expected.

“I’m not hearing a no.” Allura winks, snapping him out of his zone. She takes her hand away to put both on her hips in an ordering stance. “In the morning, you will go to him. Yes?”

Lance blinks, brows furrowing, “..but the ship leaves tomorrow morning—“

Allura huffs, rolling her eyes and raising her voice. “ _You will go to him,_ yes?”

Lance considers it, lets a brief moment of silent pass before speaking again. “..But—“ he takes both her hands, “what about you? Your name? Won’t it be..?”

“Tainted?” Allura finishes, wriggling her hands out of Lance’s grasp with a shrug. “Yes, most likely so.”

Lance’s face falls with guilt, peeking back to look at the letter.

But Allura grabs his face back to look at her properly again, smiling gentle and turning to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Sit,” she pats the place beside her, Lance following and sitting as told with a soft, befuddled scrunch to his face to show Allura.

Allura swallows, watching her knees before pulling them up to her chest with a soft breath.

“Eight years ago, there was an overseas Prince named Lotor. Him and I accompanied balls and parties that our families always seemed to meet at at the right time… he was only two or so years above me, so I knew we would never actually last for long, but...”

She pauses, smiling in reminiscence.

“..I loved him.” She looks directly up to Lance, letting him see the small color to her cheeks. “He held me so gentle, bought me sweets, listened to me when all I ever had in my life to talk to were maidens and servers, and always made sure that I was smiling no matter what. Sounds like love, right?”

Lance searches her face for a moment, nodding slow.

“That’s because it was.” She looks away again, brows gaining a small pinch to them for what she pains to say next. “And I was always too afraid to call it that. To make what I thought was just… a really good friendship something more— I didn’t want to ruin it, because he was so important to me, Lance. And do you know what happened?”

Lance leans in a little more, interested and invested in the story. “What..?”

Allura pats her thighs, clicking her tongue, careless. “He ended up marrying another maiden to give her a better life.”

Lance’s eyes grow— the irony of her story and his and Keith’s finally making sense. He goes to open his mouth to apologize, only able to get out a small “..Allura, I’m so—“

“Ahp!” She covers Lance’s mouth with a single finger, shushing him. “Don’t you dare feel sorry. I waited, and I was too late. I deserved the lonely place I was in…” she drops her hand, fidgeting it with the other. “...I didn’t deserve to turn that loneliness into boredom, though. Which is how I came upon buying you, Lance.”

It’s all too clear that Lance has a million and one emotions mixed into the gaze his eyes are giving back to Allura right now, still not able to find the right words because it seems like they’re all old, overused and wouldn’t help.

But Allura seems to know that, clearing her throat and grabbing _Lance’s_ hands now, looking him square in the eye.

“Now. You will not make the same mistake I did, and you will not worry about my silly name being tarnished, do you understand?”

Lance is slow with it, but he nods. “..Yes, I understand.”

Allura narrows her eyes, scanning Lance. She holds up a pinky. “You promise?”

An ache strikes Lance right in the heart hearing that question, all of Keith and his’s promises rising to the surface…

_..Fuck_.

He has to see him.

He has to see him soon.

Lance takes a big breath, a small smile curling up with a nod. “Yes,” he brings his pinky up to hook around hers, squeezing it with a chuckle. “I promise.”

“Lovely!” Allura celebrates, plopping back onto the bed and grabbing a pillow to hug under her. She rolls onto her stomach to face Lance, feet kicking above her butt with a beam.

“Now, you _must_ tell me all about him!”

**[The Next Morning]**

“Keith?” Shiro opens his bedroom door, concern washing over his face. “Aren’t you going to help reel in the nets today? Coran said that his crew might have had the biggest catch in months!”

Keith turns over in his burrito roll of blankets, grunting something along the lines of a ‘no’.

Because how could he leave his home, with chances of seeing Lance leave with.. _her_ again?

How could he leave with the chance of watching her _win?_

How could he go outside with the chance of seeing the love of his life leave and never return for another _seven years?_

...Or longer?

Maybe never?

_Fuck_.

Shiro rolls his eyes, stepping over to open Keith’s curtains. Which earns a groan from Keith, rolling the opposite direction as to where the window beams the fresh, warm sunlight in.

“Keith, let’s go. You've barely left the shop at all this month, only to go back and forth between there and here— It’s not healthyfor you at all.”

Another low groan.

Shiro crosses his arms, huffing before preparing the big guns. “..What if Lance saw you like this? Do you think he’d want you not taking care of yourself?”

Keith freezes, lifting his head to give his brother A Look.

“Exactly,” Shiro raises his brows, nodding toward the door. “Now get up, please?”

Keith squeezes his pillow more, grunting and throwing that pillow off his bed.

“Fine! Fine, just…” he sighs, ragdolling on the bed again. “I’ll be at the dock soon.”

“Great,” Shiro bends down to pat Keith’s blanket-covered leg, turning on his heel to the door. “Don’t take too long, you know how Coran is with his fish.”

Keith just grunts after a typical Shiro chuckle, hearing his door shut not too long after behind his brother once he exits his room.

He also pointedly takes a little longer than necessary while getting ready, even though all he ends up dressing in is just his regular, raggedy pants and a linen pullover for their regular catching days.

He ties his hair back, as usual, making his way down the shore to the port to meet Shiro and his group of friends that always show up to help reel in.

They’re pointing and discussing too many things at once before Keith arrives, patting Shiro’s shoulder to both alarm him that he’s arrived and to know what they’re speaking of.

Shiro turns and greets his brother with a smile as usual, leaning down a little with his arms crossed to explain.

“They’ve just been discussing how much of a pain sending the last ship off was— no worries.”

Keith’s face wipes clean, brows dropping as well as his anxious soul to his stomach when he hears ‘ship’. “Wait— which ship?”

“The one with that foreigner Mistress Allura on it, see?” one of the random workers pitches in, stepping forward a little to point out at see where a blurry glob of a ship is about half an hour or so out to sea already. “But she was no problem— it was the other men aboard that just wouldn’t cooperate. Do you know how difficult it is to…”

But Keith blocks the stranger’s voice out, too busy staring out at sea with the strongest urge to grab his heart so it wouldn’t shatter again.

Lance is gone, again.

No goodbye, no last promise that he’ll come back.

...He’s not going to, is he?

Keith just knows his eyes are welling with tears again, making Shiro be the one to pat his shoulder to bring him back to the now again.

“Keith? Are you alright..?”

But Keith doesn’t end up answering. Just wipes his eyes with the pads of his fingers, throwing on a game face and joining the circle of men that are waving in the fishermen that’s rowing towards the dock.

And Shiro lets him go, since this is what he asked of him to do after all.

But once all the netted fish are tended to and properly secured to be sold, Keith is left with only himself as he walks the seemingly long trail to his home again with no one to walk it with.

_‘When we’re bigger, will you marry me?’_

He remembers Lance’s young voice so vividly, looking at his feet and at the gravel they press into.

_‘Okay’_

And it hurts _more_ remembering his own, frowning at the ground like it’s to take the blame since he can’t handle it himself.

But the blame _is_ on him, which just makes him huff, shake his head and look up to see how much further of a walk he has until he can curl up and hide away in his room for another twenty-four hours.

But instead of seeing his frankly very run down cottage, he sees a man only a few feet down from him.

A man with freckles and brown, tired eyes looking back at him with a welcoming smile and even _more_ welcoming arms that open.

Keith looks him up and down, eyes still processing until they don’t have to anymore.

Because it’s Lance, without a doubt he knows it, but—

“Well, are you just going to stand there or am I going to have to wait here all night?”

Keith’s face goes through pretty much all emotions to book at once, still looking Lance over, only a little more rapidly like he’s trying to snap himself out of a weird grievance episode or some dream.

He hopes to god this isn’t a dream.

But he eventually parts his lips, takes a cautious step forward with furrowed brows. “Why—.. how are you here?”

Lance drops his arms, linking them behind his back to casually start a slow walk up to meet Keith as he hums, “well, when a mother and father love each other _very_ much, you see—“

Keith groans, rolls his eyes to prompt his arms crossing his chest. _“Lance,_ you know what I meant.”

God, he doesn't want to stop hearing his name come out of his mouth.

Lance’s smile falters for a second seeing Keith do his signature defense move, only a step or two away from being right in front of Keith. He looks him over from this distance, which just charges his smile to grow more.

“Allura left.”

Keith blinks, searching Lance’s face for… something that he doesn’t even know anymore, to be completely honest.

“She.. left?”

"Mhm."

"..Just... _l_ _eft_?"

“Mmhm.”

Keith’s face scrunches as if he’d just been lied to, knowing damn well that no lady would leave her husband in such a suffering town like this unless he had a side business to tend to.

“..But— no, Shiro’s friends said that her ship docked. _How are_ you _here?_ ”

He’s persistent with it, which makes Lance’s face fall. Only a little, because he still understands why.

“Okay, okay..” Lance steps the rest of the way until he can hold Keith’s face in his hands again, just like he’s been waiting to. He’s more than grateful that Keith doesn’t resist or flinch from it.

“Allura found out about our letters. But she wasn’t disgusted, she instead wished good on us. Can you believe that?” He huffs a chuckle, shaking his head in his own disbelief of the events that already happened. “She was like you and I once, and didn’t want the same thing to reoccur, so she let me go and has our separation figured out. Now she’s going back home, and I’m here-to stay.”

Keith’s gaze switches between both of those brown eyes that are so closer now, and briefly dips to those lips that aren’t close enough, still not understanding.

Lance looks over Keith’s hair with that gentle smile that hits Keith right in the heart every time, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear. “Forgive me, I was just… expecting more of a reaction—“

Keith doesn’t let another word fall from Lance’s lips before that reaction hits Lance like a truck. Well, more like two sets of arms wrapped tight around his middle, and a face shoved into his chest like it’s meant to be there.

Lance wobbles back at first with a little chuckled ‘woah’, but gains his footing easily, eventually hugging Keith back with warm, gentle arms.

“Mmmm..mmh mmmm…”

Keith mumbles into his coat, but Lance is at a pure loss of it.

“What was that, dear..?”

Keith shifts his head barely to the side to speak more clear, “I’m not letting go this time..”

A pleasant fire sparks in Lance’s chest where Keith speaks into, almost like he’s talking right to his heart to make it light up.

“You don’t have to…” He smiles and giggles, rubbing up and down Keith’s back.

He doesn’t comment on the fact that he can feel his shirt getting wet, his heart melting at the fact. But he won’t scare off Keith, so he just kisses the top of his head, and lets his shirt soak. It’s not like he’ll be wearing it for anyone else important anymore anyway.

They stand there in each other’s arms for a good few silent minutes, Lance humming soft comments of reassurance to Keith.

But Keith is abruptly pulling away out of nowhere, looking around them while wiping his eyes.

“I— we’re still not.. Is— what is Allura going to do about her—?”

“She said not to worry about her,” Lance interrupts, pulling Keith closer by his hand. Uses the other to wipe away any stray tears racing down his cheeks. “And _hey_ ,” he kisses the apple of Keith’s cheek, pecking one more to his forehead for good measure. “You’re not allowed to run away from my kisses anymore, you hear? I’ve waited years for this, I believe I deserve a pass.”

And for the first time in years, Lance thinks this is the first genuine smile he’s seeing Keith give him.

“Ah, there’s that pretty smile..” Lance coos, going to press his lips right to it to really send his point home and to make up for all the kisses he’s missed out on and _more_ , but his brows pinch to form the smallest dimple between them.

“Would you hate me if I kissed you?”

And then it’s Keith’s turn for his smile to falter, not once taking his eyes from Lance’s face because he doesn’t understand the importance of Lance kissing someone else.

He doesn’t understand that Lance… probably has had his body next to someone else.

He doesn’t understand it, but he also doesn’t care about it.

Keith just tears up more and grabs Lance’s face like if he doesn’t, that the ship will appear out of nowhere and snatch him away like the horse and buggy did. Counts a few freckles as always, pressing his thumbs briskly into the top of Lance’s cheeks to keep his focus on him so he knows that he means this, that he promises this:

“I’d love you more if you did.”

It takes barely a fraction of a second for Lance to believe him, to press their lips together slow at first, only for it to turn into a crescendo of lips on lips, teeth clashing, hands pulling at whatever they can on the other to keep them impossibly close like if they didn’t the other would fall through the ground. Both scared to steal a breath in fear that the kiss would end, in fear that some clicking heels would interrupt them again.

But the only falling is their separate hearts for one another all over again, and there is only them right here and right now in this moment.

Lance is the first to delay the kiss by purposely miscalculating his lips, moving them to the right to start giving dramatic kisses up Keith’s cheek.

It’s no surprise that Keith snorts and giggles to each one, cheeks burning in the good way with a blush for prize.

“Lance— someone could see you..”

“Oh, really?” He asks, the tease drenching his tone as he peeks around them. His face screws up like he’s thinking about it, then shakes his head. “Then I guess I’ll just have to give you more then, hm? Give them a show, how does that sound..?”

And with that tease comes more sweet Keith snort-giggles, eyes scrunching in the good way while both pressing into and trying to move away from the silly smooches that are only the smallest bit ticklish.

There isn’t a single better feeling in a world that he’d trade it for.

Not even as the kisses eventually come to a stop as they make their way back to Keith’s place, talking about the other relevant things that happened to one another during the time gap.

Plopping onto Keith’s bed half undressed so that both are comfortable as they talk about Lance getting along well with Allura’s mice, and how Keith has been getting requests to do bigger projects with Shiro over the winter for better income.

“I knew those creative hands of yours would come in handy one day,” Lance sighs out, stretching on his back over Keith’s lap.

Keith just snickers, shrugging, “yeah, I suppose. We’re making enough from the shop to split, so affording this isn’t so bad.” With emphasis on ‘this’ and a glance up to refer to his cottage.

Lance looks around as well, humming. “It’s quite a quaint place you’ve got..” as he’s absentmindedly stealing one of Keith’s hands to fiddle with, gently lacing their fingers together above his face.

A comfortable beat or so of silence moves through their conversation, until Lance talks again, which isn’t a surprise for Keith.

“Did you ever end up fixing her ring?”

It takes Keith a moment to register what ring he means, who it belongs to. Then it clicks, and he blinks with a little ‘oh’. Then simply reaches over to his side table for his apron, fishing out the untouched ring with a shake of his head. “Nope.”

Lance chuckles, “how sneaky of you, Kogane,” and reaches for the ring to play with in his fingers. But as he’s playing with it, his face softens with a realization that Keith doesn’t recognize.

Keith looks down at him, quizzical, “Lance..?”

But Lance doesn’t answer, carefully reeling himself up, sitting right in front of Keith. A bright smile works the corners of his mouth up soon enough, and he’s taking that hand of Keith’s that he was playing with for a different reason now.

And Keith watches, utterly confused.

Until Allura’s ring is on _his_ third finger, no adjustments needed.

Both gawk down at it with big eyes, and of course, Lance is the first to make the move again. Looking Keith right in his pretty violet eyes with the softest smile known to man, cupping both of his pale, calysted hands in his darker ones.

“I know It’s not a replacement for the bracelet of seashells, but,” Lance kisses Keith’s knuckles, still keeping the eye contact, still keeping the sunshine smile. “I hope it’ll still make up for a little.”

Keith has no words as his eyes are caught between the crossfire of where the ring that is in no way his on his finger, and the man that technically doesn’t belong to him but he’s still in love with saying things that just make him want to squeeze the stuffing out of him.

Since he can’t, he just allows a pout to overthrow his expression, tear ducts filling fast once again before he’s full on sobbing there with his head falling to Lance’s shoulder, sniffling up a storm.

And all Lance can do is hold him, laughs gentle but in the least way patronizing as he jokes.

“I returned so that you _wouldn’t_ cry, not to make you cry _more_..”

Keith gives a breathy chuckle through another wet sniffle, pulling away slow as he wipes his eyes.

Lance looks his puffy face over, clicking his tongue with a little shake of his head. “It should honestly be against the law for you to look that pretty when crying, did you know that?” He slides a curled finger under Keith’s chin to perk it up, wiping another hot tear before it reaches Keith’s jaw.

“Look at you— I’d be jealous if I were a girl, let me tell ya..” Lance brings a hand up to Keith’s side, starts some gentle tickles that result in Keith folding away from his touch, snorting away but he persists. “You don’t get long eyelashes from that just anywhere, nope. You, my love, are special. _Too_ special, and you don’t even know it! What are we gonna do with you, hm?”

Keith tries to squirm away, littered giggles fogging his ‘stop’s and attempts at shooing Lance’s hand away. But Lance eventually lets up, giving Keith a chance to breathe, to smile back at him as wide as ever.

And in this moment, in the silence of just them and the popping fire behind them, it’s perfect.

Seven years ago was perfect, too.

And Keith is sure as hell not missing this opportunity now that he has Lance again.

After a moment of catching his breath, “..Yes.”

Lance’s grin hasn’t faded, still gawking at the porcelain face of the man he loves. But when he hears the random response to something he didn’t remember asking, he blinks, brows pinch soft in confusion. “..Yes what?”

But after a few seconds of Lance’s mind going through all the possible files of what Keith could answer to, it doesn’t take too much effort to realize the one that he’s been waiting for the most. Face growing in a pleasant shock, eyes wide with hope, he leans close to Keith’s face, holding his hands tighter.

“Wait, yes— yes me? You want to marry me?”

Keith giggles a bit, nodding with crinkled corners to his eyes. “I do,” he sniffles, clears his throat. “I have for a while now.”

“Well, thank Judas the ring fits, then.” Lance smiles, those pearly whites peeking out for Keith to admire with the fondest blush showing so. He leans in for a softer, slower kiss.

And Keith melts right into it, wiggling his hand only to intertwine their fingers, bands clinking once they bump; side by side as they should be.

It’s a long time before Lance briefly pulls away, pressing one last peck to Keith’s pillow lips before looking his face over. “Let’s not waste time and go to the church, then.”

Keith’s brows raise after processing what Lance means, blinking. “Wait— tonight?”

Lance nods with haste, humming a “yep,” with a ditzy pop to the ‘p’. Tugs onto Keith’s hand to pull him off the bed, not joking.

But Keith resists. “Wait—“ chuckling and pulling Lance back to the bed with him. Opens his mouth to speak again, but Lance cuts him off.

“ _Noooo_ ,” he whines, throwing his head back like a toddler with that adorable pout just squeezing Keith’s heart the longer he looks at it. “I don’t want to wait anymore. Why can’t I just have you now?”

A flutter courses Keith’s whole being hearing that Lance wants to _have_ him, his cheeks burning a warm blush. His lips purse into an apologetic smile, pecking Lance’s lips.

“I.. I only want to wait so I can afford a proper one for us.”

Lance’s face softens out without another word said, tilting his head like he’s missing something. Then his face lights up on demand, remembering with a little “oh—“ as he twists away from Keith to fish through his coat sprawled throughout the foot of the bed. His hand stops the searching, and he looks over his shoulder to give Keith a confident grin.

“You won’t need to worry about that.”

Keith’s face twists. Subtle, but utterly lost in what Lance means because, well— he just doesn’t have the money for that right now.

But as Lance turns back around to face Keith again with a pink-stamped letter in hand, he can tell that in the look Lance is giving him that there’s some type of plan b.

Keith looks the letter over, cautiously taking it as if it’s labeled ‘fragile’. “What is this..?”

Lance shrugs, all too innocent to be true. “Well, it’s sealed for a reason, silly. Open it and find out.”

Keith’s gaze bounces between Lance and the letter, warily popping the pink ‘A’ seal off of the tab of the letter to slide out a bill of—

“ _Judas, Lance_ —“ Keith’s eyes about pop out of his head when they read over the written currency of 10,000 pounds, what looks like hand written letter falling out onto his lap behind it.

Lance’s grin widens, already having known the news but still stoked to see Keith as surprised as he knew he would. “What’s it say?” But as he takes the bill to see for himself, his own eyes widen to marbles.

“Oh.. _oh my God_ , Keith— do you realize what all we can do with this?”

And Lance babbles on with the many possibilities while Keith takes his time unfolding the letter, holding it out to read in neatly written pink ink:

_‘Dear Keith,_

_I hope you are doing well. Did we surprise you, hm? Didn’t see that coming! Haha._

_I really do hope you can find it somewhere in your heart to forgive what I’ve taken from you, and what I’ve done to you and Lance. The money isn’t only for the token of my apology— but because I think it will benefit you two, and that it will help you two’s relationship flourish as it deserves to if you use it well. Perhaps for a cute house away from your town? To create a business with one another? To come out to visit me and the mice? I tease, I tease._

_Oh, but please write to me and tell me all about what you two do together! I am truly sorry once again. I wish you both the best and evermore!_

_Sincerely,_   
_Allura.’_

Keith’s thumb crinkles the one side of the letter with his thumb, lips pursing as he envisions that same woman in dreaded heels he saw a month earlier.

He had her wrong this whole time, and he can’t help the unsettling guilt for resenting her for all seven years if he would have known that this is how things were going to end.

If he knew that she’d give Lance back when she had no obligation to whatsoever.

So he’s blinking before looking up from the fancy writing to look up to Lance.

“—This is more than what the town’s bank has, I bet! No— I _know_ it is! I knew she was giving us a _gift_ but _goodness_ , she has us stacked for.. for _years_ , Keith!” He chuckles, reaching over the bed to carefully set the bill down onto one of Keith’s bedside tables. “Isn’t that great?”

Keith folds the letter back into itself with a slow growing smile once he sees Lance’s, never one to be able to refuse its effects anyways.

“Yes,” he nods, tossing the letter with the money as he leans in closer. “It is. It’s amazing…”

Lance opens his mouth to gab some more, but he pauses when his lips are occupied with Keith’s, his cheeks pressed gently by the palms of the man he loves.

He couldn’t possibly deny the kiss, no way. So he gives back just as much push as Keith does, focused on memorizing that taste that he lost touch of during those seven years.

“...So will you marry me _now_?” Lance mumbles impatiently against those pale but soft lips, making a giggle bubble from behind them.

Keith just snorts, kissing the tip of Lance’s nose. “Nope, I’m tired.” And down he plops, onto his back to roll onto his side as if he’s going to bed. But he’s still smiling at the wall.

Lance’s mouth goes agape with betrayal after the first ‘nope’, gasping, “ _what??_ ” and he’s immediately reaching for Keith’s side to start shaking him in tantrum. “After _allll_ this— it’s still a _no_? But you just said yes! I heard it with my own two ears!!”

Keith just giggles along to each jostle and rock to his hip, standing his ground as his teases. “Nope, I don’t recall. Didn’t happen.”

“You truly are a cruel one, Kogane.” Lance grunts, letting Keith go with a groan before plopping down right beside Keith.

Keith’s brows raise to himself, the amusement most likely able to be heard in his tone, but it’s light weighted as he says softly, “don’t you mean Keith McClain?”

It takes a whole beat for what Keith just said to occur to Lance.

His head pops up from the pillow eventually in fast fashion, a nice blush starting to creep up his ears, too, the longer the ring of the name sits in his head to think about coming true, and— “Wait— what’d you say?”

Keith looks over his shoulder at Lance, falsely clueless. “Hm? I said nothing,” then turns back over, grinning yet again.

“Oh my Lord, _Keithhh_..” Lance groans louder, head thrown back again.

Keith only snickers, “oh hush and hold me already.” He hasn’t been waiting for it for nothing.

Lance mumbles something grumpy and incoherent under his breath, shifting and moving the mattress as he scooches up to the back of Keith. Carefully wraps his arms around him, nestling his chin into the slope of Keith’s shoulder that connects to his neck to smell that strong musk of coal and sweat, but also pine and a spice that he’s never been able to put a name to but loves nonetheless.

And for the first few moments of them just breathing and taking each other in like this, it’s Keith that speaks first this time.

“..I love you.” He rushes out with haste, half a whisper, half a hope that if he didn’t say it as fast as he could then he’d be cut off again.

Lance’s brows raise a little, turning his head into Keith’s neck with an absolutely molten grin. Oh, _oh_ he finally said it… “I’ve been waiting for you to say that for so long now..” he chuckles light against Keith’s skin, kissing his neck briskly, then nibbling his ear in chaste. “As do I. I lvoe you _so_ much…”

Keith presses back into Lance’s sweet touches, fond tears forming in his eyes again.

But only because just being held like this, being told that he’s loved like this—by Lance, being _wanted_ in someone that he love’s eyes from day 1 and never lost in their eyes even over seven years, being in a town where every answer is ‘no’ but this feels like the best ‘yes’ in the universe, and being here in bed with the man that he loves, wearing a ring that promises it won’t be the last time so they don’t have to.

A ring that promises that they will get a place to call theirs with an apple tree in the front garden—

A ring that promises that they’ll get the wedding they deserve even if the whole world is against them—

A ring that promises they won’t ever, _ever_ have to wait for one or the other to return.

Because they’ll be right there when the other calls,

I promise.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and I hope you enjoyed the read!! I really REALLY love 1700s aus, and I love klance. So I just couldn't help myself with this one. Which 'promise' was your favorite? What made ya giggle a bit? What really ~hit different~ for y'all or pulled on those heartstrings? Let me know! :)


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